


Merciful Thing

by undeadsnorlax



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (but that’s just the Hargreeves in general isn’t it?), (except you all know who the murderer is from the start), Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-typical topics, Family Drama, Gen, Murder Mystery, Secrets, Slow To Update, planning to send your kid to the moon is kinda fucked up when you think about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-03-08 20:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeadsnorlax/pseuds/undeadsnorlax
Summary: Luther, maybe too late, realises how bad his father is.So he snaps.And he, at least partially, regrets.





	1. Rather Than Humiliate

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time uploading a fic for a new fandom since I actually started writing again two years ago  
> so uh  
> hi there
> 
> this is niche, i'll confess. also i had no idea what to tag this as. I didn't expect to get enough ideas to make it some kind of multichapter thing but. here we are. the other siblings will appear later. there's definitely some timeline things I've messed up some how but. look. i am but one forgetful woman doing this for funsies.
> 
> sorry not sorry, i love luther ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ he's big and stupid and i will hold his monkey hand

"Number One, are you listening?"

Luther blinked, tilting his head up. He'd been staring at his hands – _they were his_ , he had to keep reminding himself.

"...you don't have to keep calling me..." He sighed and started again. "Yes. I'm listening."

Reginald raised his brows for a moment, before scowling again.

"So you understand the importance of the task I'm setting you?"

"Yes Dad."

"Good. You may go."

Luther sidled out of the door, angling his shoulders so he'd actually fit through the frame – _fuck_ he was so broad. Too broad, inhumanly...well, it was inhuman. He felt _inhuman_.

One week had passed since he woke up after that accident. One week of trying to grow used to this new body.

 _Trying_ was certainly the key word.

He caught glimpses of the coarse dark hair in the mirror as he slipped into the bathroom to bathe, noticing the tension of his now larger muscles as he darted his eyes away. For the first few days he just stood in the shower, eyes scrunched closed as he let the water fall over him. He eventually pushed himself to use soap, to touch his body for longer than a second. In a more light-hearted moment, he chuckled quietly to himself, wondering whether he should be using shampoo instead on his hairier body.

The chuckling slowly turned into sobs though.

Now, Luther dragged himself back to his bedroom. He didn't exactly have much motivation to do anything but mope there lately. He supposed he should enjoy his last few days on earth...

The moon. Dad was sending him to the fucking _moon_.

He wrinkled his nose, tugging the sleeves of his shirt further down his arms, trying to cover as much of his hands as possible.

No. Dad said it was _important_ he go to the moon. There was a _reason_ for it.

A reason he seemed to gloss over, to just repeat and repeat the same thing – i _t's important_.

Slowly, Luther lowered himself to sit on his bed, wincing as it creaked under his weight. He'd never asked for a new bed since he hit his growth spurt at fourteen, and now he was severely noticing how cramped it was. He'd probably mention it if he wasn't...

"The moon?" he said under his breath, frowning.

"Everything alright Luther?"

Grace stood in the doorway, smile soft and carrying a tray. Luther managed a smile back, shoulders bunched up.

"Yeah. I'm fine Mom."

She nodded, setting the tray on the bedside table, letting him see the small pile of sandwiches and glass of juice on it, before she stroked a hand slowly over his hair. She bowed down closer, kissing his forehead. He gritted his teeth and bared it. He still wasn't used to her affections in such a high dosage, but she needed to place them on someone with everyone else gone. It’s what she was programmed to do, after all.

"You still need rest," she said, before gesturing to the food, "And you need to eat properly."

Luther grunted, grabbing a sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth. Mom was right, of course, he should be eating actual meals (especially if he was going to _the fucking moon_ ) and his appetite was certainly there but he simply didn't have the energy. He tried though, forced a bowl of oatmeal down in the morning at least, what felt like far more than he used to eat.

Grace waited a few more moments before nodding, gesturing at the tray again. “I finished them, by the way.”

Luther blinked, swallowing heavily as he followed her hand. A pair of dark green gloves, delicately knitted with care. He blushed slightly, picking them up and putting them on, splaying his fingers out. Grace smiled, rubbing his cheek lightly.

“They suit you wonderfully.”  
“…thanks Mom.”  
She’d noticed how much he kept tugging at his sleeves, trying to hide his hands, and promised to make him gloves as soon as possible.

She gave him another small kiss, before turning to leave. "Call me if you want anything else Luther. Sleep well."

"I will. Thank you, Mom. Goodnight."

Without even having to ask, she shut the door after her, leaving Luther alone with his thoughts once more.

He finished the sandwiches and drained the glass, before curling up on top of the covers, head tucked into the crook of his arm.

He flexed his fingers in front of his eyes with a small sigh. What would his siblings think of all this?

He huffed, burying his cheek against his arm more. Would they even care? They'd all left by now, in some way or another. Ben was excused, poor kid, but the others...

Right now, he missed them. Especially Allison, she always understood him, but he'd even extend this nostalgic yearning towards Diego. You grow too used to growing up around that many people, sharing the same house, and now...

 _They got the right idea_ , Luther thought with a small sigh, closing his eyes, _They got out_.

He'd scoffed and resented every sibling quietly as they left (again, Ben was excused), all the way back to when Five ran out the door and never came back when they were kids, gone to who knows when.

But no. They'd all gotten the right idea.

_Get the hell out._

Luther got they hadn't had the most conventional childhood – not everyone was raised to basically be a superhero, made to fight criminals as a group from a young age. Assigned a number and not a name, not until Grace came along.

But he was praised, and he was the leader...

Or was he? What point did the numbers really have?

All him being Number One really did was bring tension down between him and Diego, butting their heads together at any given moment. He felt some quiet resentment at times from Klaus and Ben, but he always ignored it.

Vanya was Number Seven, but she was normal, and excluded and ignored. As awful as it had portrayed them all, there were times where he couldn’t really blame her for writing that stupid book.

Allison never mentioned anything of the like, but maybe she felt the odd one out, the only girl actually on the team.

Without realising, Luther's hands curled into tight fists.

He'd known for a while that father wasn't always right, but he turned a blind eye, was always the one jumping to his defence because he wasn’t _that_ bad…to him.

But...

But.

_Five was missing._

_Ben was dead._

_Diego was...well, he wasn't too sure. A cop school dropout last he heard._

_Klaus was a twitchy addict, had been since their teens, in and out of rehab like a holiday home._

_Vanya was otherwise normal, but Luther couldn't pretend he didn't notice the pills she took every day growing up, the silent look of relief every time she did._

_Allison...she was fine. She had her career, and her family. Luther would watch her movies to feel a little closer to her once more. Or was she really fine? She was a great actress, how much of the rest of her life was playing pretend?_

Luther found himself sat up again, clutching either side of his head. Why this, why now?

_Dad could be trusted._

He lowered one arm; the Umbrella Academy tattoo still barely visible through thick hair. A mark of his childhood, of what he was raised to be.

His fist clenched again.

_No he couldn't._

Without realising it, he was stomping along the corridor back towards the office. As expected, Dad was still there, hunched over his desk and working. His brow twitched upon hearing the creak of floorboards, barely looking up at Luther.

"What is it, Number One?"

"...Luther."

"...what?"

"My name..." He took as step forward, shoulders square. "Is Luther. Nobody else is here anymore Dad. There are no numbers. Only me."

Reginald still barely moved, huffing slightly. "If you insist, _Luther_."

"...why the moon?"

"I told you boy, it's important-"

"That doesn't explain it though!"

Luther lurched forward now, open palms slamming down on the desk. He was giving Dad every opportunity to prove himself, even slightly.

_More chances than he deserved._

Reginald stood up now, staring Luther down with those cold dead eyes.

"Research. As I said, important."

Luther saw each of his siblings flash by as a bitter bile rose in his throat. Something clicked in his head, something that he knew he should have faced years ago.

_Important. Hardly._

None of them were really important to him.

He barely registered his hand around his father's neck, grip tightening as he raised him one foot, two foot, three foot off the ground. Reginald was taken aback by this, at the very least, gagging as he grabbed at Luther's paw.

Luther just tightened his grip, slamming him against the closest wall.

"You do... _this_ to me," he snarled, breathing heavily through gritted teeth, voice shaky as he gestured at his body, "And expect me to accept it. _Fine_. But you won't even tell me why. What am I supposed to do when I get there? How long?"

Reginald certainly tried to make words, but with every second Luther's hold was tighter against his throat, his eyes bulging.

"Answer me!"

It didn't take long for his father to go limp.

Luther withdrew his hand just as quickly as he'd thrown it forward, allowing Reginald to slide down the wall rather heavily, head slumping against his chest.

"...Dad?"

He didn't move.

"Shit. Shit."

Luther whined, darting back to his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and dived under his bed covers, the springs protesting loudly.

He fell asleep almost too quickly.

_This wasn't happening._

When he woke the next morning, Luther still remembered. But it felt blurry and dark.  
Perhaps it was just a dream.

A wave of relief washed over him at that concept.

“Yeah. A dream. Just a dream.”

With a newfound ease, he made his way towards the kitchen, head held high. Clearly, he’d just overreacted last night, not used to these sudden changes in his life, and fallen asleep angry, making him have a weird dream. _It happens_.

Luther was halfway down the stairs in the main hallway when he heard Grace call his name from nearby. She was leaning out of Reginald’s office, a peculiar look on her face as her fingers gripped the edge of the door.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Could you call an ambulance? Your father, he’s…” A hand went to her mouth, glancing behind her. “He’s not moving.”

His breath caught in his throat, but obediently he nodded and ran to the phone, fumbling the tiny thing in his large hands.

_Not a dream. Not a dream. Not a dream._


	2. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iiii wouldn't usually post so soon after the first chapter, but the feedback I've gotten so far has been very encouraging and inspiring! Thank you so much<3  
> this chapter is just three ~~four~~ of the siblings coming home so it's a little slower but. yeah.

“Luther…you’ll need to get your story straight.”  
From where he lay sprawled flat on his stomach, Luther shifted his head to stare blankly at Pogo. He licked his lips before giving a weak nod.

“…I know.”

“They’re willing to give you some time before questioning,” Pogo continued, leaning forward on his cane, “I…explained you recently were in a major accident and are still recovering.”  
“…okay.”

Luther was far too aware of his body shaking. He hadn’t looked at Reginald’s body before the ambulance came to take it, but he could only imagine the bruises around his throat. It was so obviously suspicious.

“Luther?”  
He looked up again, vision blurring as another fresh set of tears threatened to push their way to the surface. Pogo tilted his head, smile thin.

“I’ve called the others. Just so you know.”

*

It felt weird to be home.

Allison took a deep breath, standing in the entrance hallway as she took in her surroundings. Of course, the call from Pogo a few days ago had been a shock. She booked the next flight out immediately, she had to be there, help prepare.

Patrick insisted he come along, bring Claire, obviously, and be there to support her.

Maybe finally let them meet her family.

Today though, she'd come alone. The funeral wasn't for another few days, but she wanted to check things first, see who else was here. Patrick had said something about a little sightseeing, what little there was to do around here, but it beat waiting in the hotel room.

There was a loud bang from the living room, followed by a grumble and a familiar thud.

_Knife hitting wood._

She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening the door.

Already, Diego had slumped back on the couch, grumbling sleepily, wrapped up in a blanket. Klaus, from his perch on the bar, stared at the blade that was mere inches from his head with a grimace. He blinked upon noticing Allison, beckoning her closer. She saw the cause of the bang, a heavy bottle of some alcohol, thankfully not smashed on the floor.

"It's good to see you," she said, keeping her voice low as she offered him a small hug. She glanced over her shoulder at the couch, frowning. "Is he okay?"

"God knows," Klaus muttered, picking up a new bottle and titling it in his hands, inspecting the liquid inside as it swished back and forth, "He got here as soon as, apparently. For Mom, you know. He was here last night when I got here, at least."

"Why is he sleeping on the couch?"

"To stop me doing this." With that, Klaus opened the bottle and knocked back the contents before Allison could properly react.

When she did, she pulled the bottle from his lips and after a half-hearted wrestling attempt, got the bottle from his hands, holding it at arm’s length.

"How long have you been out?" she asked, eyes tracing over to the hospital bracelet still tied to his wrist.

Klaus faltered, toying with the band and averting his gaze.

"Tell her the truth," Ben's voice whispered near his ear, because apparently he was still sober enough for that.

"A week."

Allison sighed, putting the bottle down on the counter. "Okay. Look, can you...not, for now? Just until after Dad's... _you know_."

Klaus rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly.

"Fine. Fine."

"Probably good you are here."

Diego had sat up properly now, shooting a glare at Klaus before turning to Allison. She just frowned.

"How come?"

He flailed his hand in what she guessed was the general direction of their childhood bedrooms. "Luther. Mom said he hasn't left his room in days, not since they found Dad."

"Well yeah, he loved the bastard," Klaus said, laying on his back across the bar, crossing one leg over the other, "Cut the guy some slack, he's probably very tender now that Daddy's gone."

"Nah. Mom sounded worried, more worried than just him mourning." Diego shrugged, stifling a yawn and stretching his arms up. "It's not like he would listen to me or Klaus. You always had a way of getting through his thick head."

"Don't start," Allison sighed, rubbing her temples slowly.

"Oh please, you know he barely has," Klaus said, patting her shoulder, "I'm still surprised he hasn't kicked down old Number One's door just to have a metaphorical dick measuring contest. Or perhaps literal? Swear that happened once-"

**Thunk!**

Another knife narrowing skimmed over him, planting itself in the wall. Klaus feigned shock for a few seconds before folding his arms behind his head.

"Temper."

Diego practically growled, getting to his feet with the blanket still wrapped over his shoulders. He grabbed the two knives and stuck them back in the holsters across his chest, giving Klaus one last scowl, before turning heel and leaving, blanket swishing like a dramatic cape in the process.

The moment he'd gone, Allison gave Klaus a shove. "Stop provoking him!"

"I'm not, he's just such an angry boy."

Ben had manifested fully now, sat cross legged on the other end of the bar and glaring at Klaus.

"She's right you know," he said, and Klaus had to fight everything in his power to not just stick his tongue out at his ghost brother.

Instead, he closed his eyes and sat up, sighing softly.

"Sorry. It's just been utter misery since I got here."

"Our father did just die, Klaus." Allison sat herself up on a stool for now, clasping her hands together. "So just us three so far?"

"Yep, just us-" Klaus stared directly at Ben, brows raised. " _Three_. Four if you count Luther, I suppose. I get an awful feeling Vanya won't show up until the actual funeral, if at all."

Allison chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and leaning back against the bar. "I take it you read her book, huh?"

"Mmm. First thing I've read since I was twelve, I think."

As far as Allison knew, Klaus was just staring off into the near distance, a small crack appearing in his voice. "The stuff about Ben was... _hard_ to read."

The ghost of their brother lowered his eyes, shifting on the spot. After they read that chapter of the book, he hadn’t spoken for a few days, clearly processing it all.

Allison, noticing Klaus' expression, reached over and rubbed his knee. "Yeah. It was all a lot."

"Stuff we already knew," he mumbled.

"Yeah..."

She sighed and stood up straight, giving him one last pat on the leg.

"Maybe I...I should go see Luther. Diego's right, he'll talk to me."

Klaus scoffed, going to grab the booze again, but had it snatched away just before he could. Allison shook her head, putting the bottle back on the shelf.

"Don't touch it, okay? Too early to drink anyway."

"If you're not boring yeah." He still smiled, draping himself across the bar again. "But okay. I won’t. Good luck with Number One, sister."

Alison's feet led her like she was in autopilot towards their bedrooms. She paused briefly outside her own, the door slightly ajar. Peering inside, it looked like nothing had been touched since she left.

Now she made her way towards Luther's. The door was shut tight, the faint sound of music bleeding through. She reached for the handle, but, remembering what Diego said, knocked before she did.

"Luther? It's me, Allison."

"Uh, wait! Don't come in!"

The door, having been pushed open slightly, slammed shut with some force. A minute later it opened again, and Luther stood there, smiling uneasily.

"Sorry. I wasn't dressed."

Allison stared. He was wearing a pair of casual pyjama pants and a thick turtleneck sweater, that clung to every inch of his torso. His hair seemed longer, as well as his beard, trimmed down but still rather thick.

It hadn't been that many years since they last saw each other. She'd certainly remember if he was _that_ big. He'd always been _big_ , muscular, but something here wasn’t right.

He’d also obviously been crying. His face was puffed and blotchy, eyes bloodshot. Every so often, he’d sniff loudly, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.  
She also realised quite quickly that her staring was making him uncomfortable, averting her gaze as he stared at his feet. Instead she softened her look, smiling.

“How are you?

Instead of answering, Luther shuffled on his feet and extended his arms out slightly. Allison took the offer, wrapping her own arms around his waist and giving him a small squeeze.

Luther kept his arms hovering at the sides for a beat too long, before slowly, gently placing his hands on her back and resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"Is anyone else...?" he mumbled, body tensing for a second.

"Apparently Diego's been here a couple of days. Klaus arrived last night."

"Oh. Okay." He frowned. “They didn’t come say anything.”

He coughed and pulled away, grabbing at the cuffs of his sweater. "Did Pogo...tell you everything?"

"Only that Grace found Dad dead in his office." Allison tilted her head, reaching out for his hand – gloved and much larger looking. "Luther? What happened?"

"The cops – there's an investigation into what happened. The autopsy is today."

"What do you mean?" Surely not…there was some suspicion over Dad’s death? Is that what he was implying?

They were interrupted by the soft click of heels, as Grace approached, face bright as she noticed Allison.

"Welcome home darling," she said softly, patting the top of her head, before turning to Luther, holding out a pair of fingerless gloves, "Here. I thought these would be better suited for you. Easier to pick things up."

Luther blinked, making a small choking sound as he grabbed them, turning around to put them on. There was a pause before he handed her his old pair, a stressed expression coming over his face.

"Thank you."

Grace just kept smiling. "Don't worry. I'll get rid of these now, you won't need them."

She started walking away, calling over her shoulder as she did. "Dinner will be ready soon!"

"See Mom hasn't changed," Allison said lightly, watching as Luther ran his fingertips over the palms of his new gloves.

She thought about pursuing the thread on Reginald's death, but he looked so stressed as it was, she thought better of it.

"I heard you haven't left your room since Tuesday," she said instead, head tilted slightly.

Luther nodded. "I uh...yeah. I haven't. It was...a _shock_. Pogo's been dealing with everything. The police still need to talk to me."

Allison opened her mouth, then closed it again. Maybe after dinner she'd ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apart from That Bit You All KNOW What I Mean, I like Allison and Luther's relationship.
> 
> this is where timeline stuff is kinda. bleh because I have no idea how old Claire is supposed to be so let's say she's a few months old here. I don't know.
> 
> dinner's gonna be awkward


	3. Probably a Long List of Suspects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little disclaimer that this chapter contains some heavy-ish implication towards an eating disorder and also descriptions of a corpse, just so you're aware.  
> aka this girl getting into headcanon country with some things because why not

_ Three days earlier... _

Diego hadn't expected this many cops outside. He hadn't expected _any_ , actually. He sighed, zipping up his jacket – it didn't hide all his knives, the ones attached to his boots or the holsters on his thighs for instance, but they weren't too noticeable if you weren't looking.

The moment he tried to walk up to the door, an officer there put his hand out, shaking his head.

"Sorry sir, you can't come in here-"

"I live here." _Lived. Same thing._

The officer frowned. "No, there's only three occupants..."

"Jackson, lay off. I'll talk to him."

Diego groaned, ignoring the slight flutter in his chest as he did so. Patch jogged down the few steps, brows raised as she shooed the other officer away.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Like I told your buddy, I live here." He sighed, gesturing towards the door. " _Lived_ here. It's my childhood home."

"What do you...?" Patch trailed off, closing her eyes and letting out a soft groan. "Ah. The umbrella thing...sorry for your loss."

"Don't be, we all hated the asshole," Diego mumbled, looking up at the building, "Why are you guys here? I assumed the old man died of a heart attack or something."

"It's suspicious, that's all I can tell you right now."

Met with a signature glare, Patch glared right back. "Diego, you're not on the force. It's early days and I can't just share confidential details quite yet, even with family."

"But you think he was killed, right?"

Silence. Diego pursed his lips and jogged up the stairs.

"Hope you got time because there's probably a long list of suspects!"

*

They'd finally been allowed back in the office. All necessary evidence collected.

Not that that little detail stopped Diego. Mom had been locking the door at night whilst the police weren't there, so he climbed the drainpipe outside, half to investigate and half to test it. It didn't seem loose, buckling only slightly under his weight, meaning he was the first to use this idea.

Well, first since he was a teenager anyway.

It was harder to check the windows from that angle, as well as in the dark. Now though, he could check properly. They opened and closed perfectly fine, no sign of damage either side.

He checked every window possible in the room, the door into the office itself. The past few days he'd been checking every damn door and window and any kind of entrance way in the house like a man possessed. Checking over and over...

And there was nothing.

"No forced entry," he mumbled, pressing his palm against his forehead, "Which means..."

He tilted his head back with a groan. _What could it mean?!_

Maybe there was a reason he wasn't on the force.

Regardless, he took out the little brick of a cellphone he had, sending a text off to Patch.

 

**Diego:**

Nobody broke in.

**Patch:**

Diego stop. I know.

**Diego:**

So you haven't blocked me.

**Patch:**

Fuck you. We're still waiting on some reports if that satisfies you.

**Diego:**

It does. Thank you.

 

No further response. He sighed and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, struggling slightly for a moment. _Damn leather..._

"Oh! Ah. Shit."

Klaus, in his usual dramatic fashion, had burst into the room, grimacing slightly.

"The hell are you doing?"

"I...could ask you the same thing!"

Diego crossed his arms, looking Klaus up and down with narrowed eyes.

"Seeing if the cops missed anything."

"Oh, of course."

Klaus slunk in, brow cocked as he checked around the room with greedy eyes. "And have they?"

"...no. As far as I know."

"Almost like it's their job." He grinned, but it immediately fell seeing Diego's expression. "Sore subject still, I see."

"No shit."

Klaus was still clearly preoccupied looking around the room, but he still snapped his fingers.

"Ohh, yeah. Uh, Mom asked if you'd help with uhhh, something in the kitchen."

"...dinner?"

"Yeah,  probably."

Diego kept his eyes narrowed, grabbing Klaus' arm as he left.

"Don't take anything."

"Hah! Spoilsport."

Diego groaned and went on towards the kitchen downstairs, mind still racing about what could've happened. There was only so much he could investigate without the body...

He paused just before the doorway, sending another text off.

 

**Diego:**

Tell me the autopsy report results.

 

Another pause, his cheeks flushing, before he added:

 

**Diego:**

You know I know how to sweeten a deal if you do...ma'am ;)

 

Blushing more, he sent the message and walked into the kitchen, just in time to see Grace crouched in front of the small wood burner in one corner.

"Mom...?"

She jumped, throwing something in and slamming the door shut before standing up with a smile.

"Hello there Diego."

"What were you doing?" he asked, peering over her shoulder. He could just about spot the shape she'd thrown in, already engulfed by the flames. Something made of fabric...

"Just adding to the fire, that's all." She cupped his cheek and moved towards the cooker. "Could you set the table for your brothers and sister?"

"Sure..."

Diego grabbed a few handfuls of cutlery, still glancing suspiciously between Grace and the wood burner.

"Didn't...look like the usual fuel."

Grace paused stirring whatever was cooking for a moment, fingers gripping the spoon a little tighter.

"Just...some old clothes of Luther's. They got ruined recently."

Diego waited for something more, but met with no further response, simply bowed his head and started placing the cutlery on the nearby table.

Usually when their clothes were broken, Mom would just fix them. And it definitely didn't look like an entire outfit in the burner.

_Far smaller._

Like...

He flexed his fingers, staring at his gloves. Yeah...about that size, actually.

"Hm..."

He continued helping Mom set the table, placing four plates of pasta and meatballs down just as Allison came through the door, followed by Luther.

Diego stared at his brother, but quickly Allison pulled a face, giving a quick shake of her head.

Reacting immediately, Diego crossed his arms, grunted a greeting of "Sup, big guy?" A subtle jab he couldn't help, given Luther was looking weirdly huge right now.

Allison smiled gratefully but Luther barely reacted, mumbling a half-hearted 'hey' in return as he grabbed the nearest seat. Diego couldn't help gawking a little more before sitting opposite him, with Allison taking the seat next to Luther.

"I'll go get Klaus," Grace said, shaking her head as she put some bread on the table, "You three start."

"He was in the old man's office last I saw," Diego said, grabbing a fork and stabbing it through a meatball.

Luther froze, hand gripped too tight around his cutlery. "Why...why was he there?"

"Trying to steal shit, most likely." Diego shrugged, glancing up slightly and watching Luther's expression twitch in pain. "It's not a crime scene anymore."

"...right. Of course."

"Has it really been that bad?" Allison asked, also watching Luther carefully from the corner of her eye.

"The cops have been in and out the past few days," Diego explained, "They wouldn't talk to me, mostly Pogo. I got asked a few questions but that was it, I was...doing some work across town when it happened."

He was still sore in some places from where those guys had managed to hit him.

"Did they really think something... _bad_ happened?"

She was clearly tiptoeing around what she meant, but both heard the chair creak as Luther leaned back, shoulders square and one gloved hand tense against the table. Diego just responded with a brisk nod, thankful that Grace was back, half-leading half-dragging Klaus after her.

Klaus stared at Luther. Diego tried to signal him to keep his mouth shut, knowing it was fruitless.

"Damn bro, you've really skipped leg day recently huh?" Klaus cried, falling back into the last empty seat, "Looking pretty top heavy."

Luther just glared at his plate for a few seconds before stuffing his mouth with more pasta.

Under the table, Diego aimed one heavy leather boot at Klaus' ankles. He yelped quietly, bringing his leg up to rub it, pouting as he did.

They ate the rest of the meal in complete silence. Just like they were kids again. Diego was maybe partially glad – he couldn't remember the last good meal he'd had, and he'd been overthinking too much the past few days. He needed the peace.

Klaus barely touched his food, ate one meatball and twirled some spaghetti around his fork but slowly pushed the plate forward, biting his bottom lip as he looked sheepishly between Diego and Luther.

Diego sighed and shook his head, gesturing at his still half-full plate. Luther's eyes darted to Grace, preoccupied by the sink, and grabbed Klaus' plate, pouring the food onto his empty one, before sliding it back over. Allison flared her nostrils slightly, giving them a dirty look, but Luther blanked her to keep eating, Klaus giving a tiny grateful smile, whilst Diego stared at his fork.

Really felt like they were kids again, timing when Sir Reginald wasn't looking to dump the bits of their meal they didn't want onto the plates of others. A whole system that sometimes altered where they sat each evening because they knew it would be easier to pawn off their veggies on a particular sibling.

Klaus was the worst offender. Diego couldn't remember when he really stopped eating most of his meals, whether he was just picky or the drugs he somehow snuck in suppressed his appetite or...something worse. All he knew is often times, he and Luther would do a quick rock-paper-scissors to decide who got a second helping with Klaus' dinner.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, distracting him from the brief moment of tension.

 

**Patch:**

Meet me at the usual place in an hour.

 

"Uh...hey, guys."

Diego didn't look up from his phone, leather gloves creaking as he tensed his fingers.

Vanya stood in the kitchen doorway, head bowed as she tugged at her shirt sleeve, smiling shyly. Allison jumped to her feet, beaming as she pulled her in for a hug.

"It's so nice to see you," she said gently, "We didn't think we'd see you before..."

"Yeah, well, I thought I should..." She trailed off, noticing Luther still hunched at the table. She didn’t stare like they had, simply glanced away quickly. “Thought I should come now.”

 

**Diego:**

Can you meet me now?

**Patch:**

Sure.

 

He got to his feet and very deliberately shoved into Vanya as he left, storming out of the house, grabbing his jacket in the process.

He tugged it on, feeling heat prickle the back of his neck as he walked down the street.

He knew what Vanya wrote was true. Even the stuff about him, his rivalry with Luther, the things he did or said…the events surrounding Ben. It didn't change the fact that it was the biggest knife in the back he'd ever received for her to air out all their lives like that. Who couldn't have guessed the children of the Umbrella Academy maybe didn't have the best upbringing?

He was too tense as he found himself in the side alley, between a semi-popular bar and a pizza takeout place. Patch was already there, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, gripping the strap of her bag.

"So?" he asked, but she immediately grabbed his collar, brows raised.

He swallowed and leaned in, allowing himself to be pushed back against the wall as they kissed, tension vanishing as soon as it had appeared. He kept his hands holding her waist as hers travelled immediately to his backside, squeezing it with a grin.

It was at the first excited huff Diego let out that she pulled away, wiping under her chin.

"That your payment?" he asked with a purr.

"You would have worn me down eventually," Patch muttered, opening her bag and taking out a file, “Or you would’ve broken into the goddamn building.”

She paused, staring down at it with a gulp.

"Diego. These aren't pretty. I'll tell you what I know. We’re going to interview your brother soon, and when that’s done, your father’s body should be ready for release soon after.”

She kept talking as she handed over the file. The moment he opened it, he was greeted with a set of photos of Reginald's body.

Diego felt himself blanch a little. It was distressing seeing the old bastard in such a state, but those deep purple and red bruises around his neck were incredibly prominent.

"As you can see, case of death was strangulation," Patch said, gesturing slightly at the photographs.

"So someone...someone actually _did_ kill him?" he said slowly, flicking through the rest of the papers, eyes scanning each line of text.

"Yeah. It wasn't some...you know, some sexual thing gone wrong."

Diego grimaced at even the mere concept.

"A man his age, everything was a lot more fragile, obviously. Some bone was dislocated in the process.”

She paused again for a moment before pointing at one particular photo. "It was one hand. From the position the body was found in, he must have been shoved into the wall. There's light bruising along his underside which...really implies he was lifted off the ground."

Diego nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. "Anything else?"

"No fingerprints. Two separate fibres were found at the scene."

Patch turned to a specific page, more photos, one of a small amount of fuzz, the other a few strands of hair.

"The first is synthetic, from some kind of clothing. Wool, we imagine."

_Grace_ had _been burning a pair of gloves._

"The other is...natural." She pinched the bridge of her nose, scoffing slightly. "The lab tests are coming back as ape."

Diego stared at the wall opposite. "Pogo would never..."

"It actually immediately ruled him out as a suspect," she said, tapping a few of the notes listed with the picture.

_'Gorilla hair'._

"What the fuck?" he muttered.

"You can imagine, we're all a little stumped right now."

She took the files back with one swift snatch, stuffing them into her bag.

"And if anyone else finds out I showed you these, I'm out of my job," she growled.

"I can't help being so damn charming," he said softly, tucking his fingers under her chin, though she pulled away quickly.

"This doesn't...mean anything, Diego."

"...Eudora..."

"You broke up with me. Not the other way around." She groaned, pressing her palm against her forehead. "I hope you got the information you wanted. I know you hated him, but I'm sorry for your loss either way, Diego. Tell your brother to expect us around in the next two days. Now just...stay out of my hair."

And with that, she walked away. Diego stared after her for a short while, shoulders drooping, before slapping himself in the face.

She was right. This was his own fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me rewatching the opening of episode two and four and getting confused: well guess the show doesn't know it's own timeline either huh
> 
> is it obvious Diego is my other favourite sibling given how long this chapter is (and how it was longer but I split it into the next one for...reasons~). I like angry boys, it's a thing. two separate people who know me irl immediately guessed I loved him from my previous taste in characters alone.
> 
> anyway i'm kind of uh. done with uni and this has been my hyperfocus. next chapter is already done so I might release that later this week.


	4. Luther in the Bathroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me realising I can make another musical reference in a chapter title: :D  
> (the fic title itself is a musical reference lmao)

Diego considered for a moment just going back to his place, call this whole thing a night, but as he reached his car, he stared across the street at the academy and let out a slow sigh.

He thought of his bed back in the gym, how he felt every spring dig into his back as he tossed and turned, then remembered the first night he got back here, how he slept a solid eight hours the moment he slumped back into the soft mattress.

Plus, he could really use a shower. All black and leather, as good as it looked, was not ideal sometimes. He mapped out where every bathroom in the house was in his head, remembering one on the second floor third corridor that was always under used. _Perfect_.

He kept thinking about the files as he made his way there, massaging his temples.

Someone had killed Reginald. _Obviously_. He hadn't not suspected that since all the police activity.

But the sheer strength needed to do that with one hand...

Diego paused for a moment in the corridor, grumbling loudly.

_No, there's no way in hell Luther could have done it. It's...it's Luther!_

He reached out and turned the door handle, shaking his head. It was stupid to even consider that a possibility.

_Besides, that wouldn't explain the-_

"Diego! Knock fi- fuck, shit...!"

"...g-gorilla."

Luther cringed, hopelessly hiding himself with the shower curtain. He'd shaved, beard now down to a neat lighter coloured stubble and his hair was half-way to being cut shorter, the clippers discarded hurriedly on the side of the sink.

Diego allowed himself to gawk now, staring over his brother's shirtless torso. There was no mistaking it. From the neck down, Luther was covered in thick dark hair, his shoulders and chest physically broader, far more than any regular humans should be. Across one bicep and pectoral, part of his stomach too, the visible skin was scarred, blotchy and pink, recently healed.

"Oh...oh, _Luther_..."

Luther growled, throwing aside the shower curtain and extending out his arms. Diego didn't miss how his muscles were still large and prominent, more so really, tensing even with this minor gesture of irritation.

"Look, say what you want and get out," he snapped, not that it was enough to hide the crack in his voice as he went back to the sink to grab the clippers, "Or if you want to make yourself useful, help me shave the back of my head."

Diego kept staring. He couldn't help it, mostly at how small the more human parts of Luther looked compared to the rest of his body. A small part of him _wanted_ to laugh, tease his brother about this, because it took away from the feeling of dread in his gut, the horror of the situation.

But he felt his usual anger towards him wane for a moment. Because right now, it was like they were teenagers again, first time superheroes during the turmoil of puberty. Voice cracks and confused feelings and everything else. Diego wandering into this very bathroom to find Luther repeating the same heroic sounding speeches over and over, trying to sound more sincere and less wooden – the difference between Space Boy, the bold leader, and Luther, the awkward child. The way he flinched in on himself to be showing even an ounce of weakness in his confident facade. The pain in Diego’s chest because it was the same kind of practising he did in front of his bedroom mirror as he fought back his stammer.

"C’mon. Let me cut your hair."

Luther blinked, took a small step back even, but quietly handed the hair clippers to Diego, before kneeling to make the task easier. Luther had always been the tallest of them all but this new body had definitely added a few more inches.

"This the right length guard?"

"Yeah. Just all over then clean the edges." Luther took a short breath through gritted teeth. "I should've done this weeks ago but..."

"Okay, okay."

Other than the hum of the clippers, they remained in complete silence. Diego kept staring at Luther's broad new shoulders, unable to ignore that sinking feeling any longer. Without thinking, he took off his glove and stroked over one of Luther’s shoulder blades, running his fingers through the coarse hair.

"...you did it, didn't you?"

Luther bowed his head, rubbing a hand over his scalp to get any excess hair off.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Diego set the clippers down, prompting Luther to stand up far too quickly, stance square. He refused to look at Diego, which suited him fine as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, putting his glove back on before folding his arms.

"I had a contact show me the files on the old man," he said slowly, watching Luther sway on the spot, "He was strangled. The bruising shows it was one handed. They think he was lifted off the ground and slammed into a wall."

"And just because my power...?"

"Luther. They found gorilla hair at the scene."

He paled at this.

Diego closed his eyes for a moment, decided to pursue a different topic.

"What happened, Luther? How'd you get so _big_?" Understatement of the century perhaps.

"There...there was an accident, the last mission I went on. Radioactive chemicals…they got on me." He frowned at his bare feet, gently tracing the scars on his chest, seemingly without noticing. "I…think I died. All I really remember is being in pain and then... _nothing_. Not even darkness. And then I woke up on a gurney, like this. Alone."

He glanced up slightly. "Not that that's very unusual."

Diego shifted, noticing the hint behind the words. "You that pissed we all left, huh?"

"...not pissed. Not now. You all did the smart thing."

Luther swallowed, brushing off any remaining loose hair from his shoulders before pulling on his sweater and gloves once more. Now it all made sense, it covered every inch that was…ape. "I'm jealous. That you managed to get out whilst you had the chance. That Dad didn't..."

He sighed. "That he didn't get _you_ like he got _me_."

Diego turned his head, running a finger along the scar by his ear. "He got us all somehow."

He stood up and, rather tentatively, gave Luther a pat on the back. He paused a second, staring hard. How to be sensible about this?

"All I want is a yes or no. Did you kill Dad?"

"...I lost my temper. He wouldn’t…he was planning to send me to the moon-“ _Jesus Christ,_ as if this tale couldn’t get any weirder. “-and he wouldn’t tell me why. And I thought of…of all of us, what he’s done, and I just snapped. I didn’t _mean_ to.”

"...got it."

He patted his back again, feeling the slight padding of hair even through the fabric.

"I figure Mom knows?"

"Yeah. Her and Pogo, they've been covering up what they can." Luther took a shaky breath, clearly eager to move away but seemingly liking this slight affection. Diego reminded himself they were all rather touch starved, and Luther hadn’t ever left the house, hadn’t had the chance to seek out other people for affection. "You don't seem angry."

"Luther, you can't imagine the number of nights I dreamt of taking a knife to that bastard's throat and slitting it open, especially after...after Ben. You've done the world a favour." Diego tilted his head to his shoulder, not completely able to believe what he was saying. "This’ll be our secret. And I can tell you, your little... _hairy issue_ here, it's throwing the cops off. So long as we can keep that under wraps, and you keep your cool when they interview you soon, they might just move on. And we’re all the better for it."

Luther's eyes glistened for a moment, before he grabbed Diego, pulling him in for a hug. Diego choked, feeling himself getting squeezed, but he managed to put his arms at least slightly around, giving Luther a small hug back.

"Quit it, this is weird," he eventually grumbled, feeling the air return to his compressed body once Luther let go, "We're usually ready to kill each other."

Perhaps a poor choice of words. Regardless, Luther could only respond with a smile, shy and lip half quirked to show part of his teeth. Diego couldn't help but smile back.

This _was_ weird, far too weird. The longest he and Luther had gone without fighting, with their rivalry that Diego now saw as an adult was manipulated by their father. He couldn't understand what would be gained in the group to have the two 'higher ups' clash, beyond pushing them to work harder, train better.

But now...after _this_...he had Luther's back. _Fuck it_. He couldn't blame the guy for snapping because really, it was only a matter of time before any of them did.

It felt nice to let some anger about their past go. Almost like a tension he never realised he held had gone, and he relaxed his shoulders slightly, unclenched his jaw a tad.

Luther hesitated for a moment, keeping his voice low.

"Do you...blame yourself? For Ben?"

Diego just swallowed, closing his eyes as his throat tightened.

"...sometimes. You?"

"...a lot."

Nothing more could be said as a scream rang through the house, cutting their conversation short. The two glanced at each other, both frowning.

"That sounded..."

"Like Klaus."

"Outside?"

They just sighed and rushed downstairs. On their way, they ended up running into an equally confused Allison and Vanya walking out of the living room.

"The hell is he doing?" Diego muttered, still hearing Klaus yelling, this time each for sibling in turn.

"Maybe he climbed somewhere and got stuck, like that one time," Vanya said, shaking her head, "We should check. He’s…”  
She trailed off but they each added an appropriate word to describe Klaus in their heads.

The four went out into the main courtyard, immediately met with a rushing roar of wind and dark skies, seeing Klaus stood there illuminated by-

"What the hell?"

Klaus glanced over his shoulder, grinning manically. "Oh, great, you see it too, huh?"

"You mean the giant glowing portal?" Allison cried, squinting up at it, "Yeah! We do!"

Luther shuffled to the front, grabbing Klaus by the shoulder and shoving him back, awkwardly spreading his arms out. Despite their earlier bonding, Diego’s rivalry still burnt strong, putting himself at the front too, a knife out and ready with one flick of his wrist.

"Do you all also see the face?" Klaus asked, gripping onto Allison's shoulders, "Or is that just a me thing?"

The other four looked at each other quickly, then studied the portal thing closer.

Klaus was right. There was a face.

A figure.

A man.

A child?

...a teenager.

Who fell through, flat to the ground with a thud, as the portal closed with a _thwip_ , everything returning to normal.

The teen groaned, pushing himself to his feet. He squinted at the others in front of him, before looking down at himself, wearing a tattered white shirt and pair of too-small shorts.

“Hm. Guess my calculations were off slightly,” he mumbled, flexing his fingers, “Makes sense, but still…this is a problem.” His voice was low, but in an awfully familiar way, a voice they hadn’t heard in over a decade…  
They glanced at each other, then back at the boy, knowing instantly they were all thinking the same thing.

“No way,” Diego muttered.  
“I think…yes way,” Klaus added, brows raising, “Ho-lee-sheeeet.”

This kid was late teens, maybe could get into a bar with a good enough fake ID. But beyond a few patchy hairs around his angled jawline, there wasn’t much difference from the thirteen-year-old boy that vanished to time that one fateful day.

“Five?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE the boy is here
> 
> also i have such a headcanon for what happened to Ben and how everyone blames themselves in some way. might do something with it one day.
> 
> idk if Luther actually has scars but...it makes sense so he gets scars


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero impulse control when it comes to updating this fic huh, I just...finish a chapter and decide, go, be free, see the world. like I said. finished uni, this has become a hyperfocus.
> 
> Anyway, god, the start of this chapter was...hard to write. I am not really used to having six important named characters in one scene. But I think I managed??

Ten minutes later, the six found themselves back in the kitchen. Five stood at the head of the table, far too calmly making himself a sandwich (peanut butter and marshmallow, of course), especially considering he'd just appeared from a glowing portal, whilst the others stared in silence.

Klaus, cross legged on the table itself, opened his mouth to say something, but Five raised his hand, stuffing half the sandwich into his mouth. He let out a blissed-out sigh, tilting his head back to the ceiling.

"Oh, I've missed that," he mumbled, wiping his mouth before sitting down on the chair, "Okay, first things first. What's the date?"

Met with more stunned silence, he rolled his eyes. "Now people!"

"August seventh," Vanya replied quickly. Noticing Five was still staring, she added, "...2016?"

This knocked him back a little.

"Was I really _that_ off?" he muttered, rubbing his chin, "Four years is a big gap but...would explain some of the other mishaps I suppose…"

Klaus couldn't take the silence any longer, flailing his arms into the air. "Where the hell have you been?! And how are you only like, sixteen or something?"

"Between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, actually. I vaguely remember that being when I got all gangly. My voice is…only slightly croaky, so let’s say seventeen, average it all out." Five leaned forward, rubbing his temples as he ate another bite. "I'll keep this simple for you. That day I vanished when we were kids? I travelled into the future. Into 2019. The day the apocalypse happened."

This left them in more stunned silence. Five just continued as if he'd said a perfectly normal sentence. Suppose for him, it was.

"I remained in that wasteland, alone, for the next forty-five years. Technically, I'm in my fifties right now. Somehow, coming back has de-aged me to my late teens."

"Why now?" Allison asked, "You've had all that time..."

"I simply... _couldn't_ until recently. Recently for _me_. Time is so relative and..." Five just shook his head. "It's a long story and I'd simply confuse _some_ of you more if I tried to explain." He punctuated this with a look at his brothers. Only Diego reacted with an irritated huff, Luther still dazed that this was happening and Klaus smirking and nodding.

"What matters is this gives us plenty of time to prevent the apocalypse, figure out what started it."

He grimaced slightly, face falling into a scowl. "And that Father was right. I maybe shouldn't have pushed my powers so soon. Surprised my arrival didn't bring him out..."

Everyone took a sharp, uneasy breath at this. Diego immediately put a hand on Luther’s back, getting a confused look from Klaus and Allison.

_Duh. Everyone thinks we hate each other._

Five just blinked. "What's...what's the matter?"

Allison took the lead, walking slightly closer. "Five. Dad, he...he's..."

"He died three days ago," Luther said bluntly, bowing his head.

Again, this knocked Five back.

"He's dead? In 2016?"

"Yeah, there's been an investigation and-"

"No, no, this...this doesn't...!"

Five leapt to his feet, starting to pace the kitchen floor, head in his hands.

"But I found newspaper reports flying around, he died in 2019, not long before the apocalypse happened. He _should_ still be alive right now."

He stopped dead, staring blankly at the wall. "Something...something's changed. The timeline...but the Commission should have...unless they _did_ send someone but...it doesn't make...they’re not sloppy…"

"Could you maybe make sense for two minutes?" Diego growled, feeling Luther's back tense. He just pressed his fingers down. _Easy big guy..._ "So what? The old man died earlier than anticipated. You just told us the world ends in four years. What does that change?"

"It changes that maybe the apocalypse happens earlier, and I don't know when to anticipate that. It could end in four years or four minutes." Five turned on his heel, throwing his arms to the sky. "Or not at all! Maybe I wasted decades of my life, for _nothing_."

"Isn't this like a second chance though?" Klaus said slowly, head tilted on his shoulder, "Is it so bad that the planet doesn't explode or whatever? You're young again, the whole of your life ahead of you. Hell, I’d _kill_ to be your age again. Does it really matter when Dad dies?"

"It does matter, Klaus, because if so, I buried you all for nothing!"

Silence again. Five faltered, swallowing heavily, his voice actually breaking for a second.

"When...I got to the future. I ran back here. The house was in ruins and I...I found your bodies in the rubble. You, Diego, Luther and Allison."

He glanced up at Vanya for a moment. "This was before I found your book, so I had no idea about Ben yet. And I'm sorry, I never found you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, before reaching into his pocket and sitting down once more. He held out his palm, in which was a glass eye. "Luther was holding this. I...I always thought that maybe it had something to do with what happened. Whoever this belongs to, _they_ caused the apocalypse. But I just...it was so recent when I arrived. From your bodies, I could...tell..."

He sucked in through his teeth, pocketing the glass eye one more. "I was hired by an organisation. We made sure historical events...went _as planned_ , by any means necessary. I'd asked, but the apocalypse...it was always set in stone, always bound to happen. An event to protect. I'm not saying Dad was a crux in what happened...but it certainly lines up somehow. You four were there. _We're_ involved."

Five looked to Luther, brows raised. "You said there was an investigation happening?"

Luther swallowed, nodding as he clasped his hands together. "Yeah. The autopsy was today...they-"

"Haven't released any info to us yet," Diego said quickly, squeezing Luther's shoulder, "We'll probably find out soon though."

"I see..." Five kept looking at Luther, glancing him up and down with painful study. "I always assumed something during the apocalypse caused your body to...grow. How recent was this?"

Luther stared at the ground. "About a month..."

Five just hummed again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Allison crossed her arms, checking her watch with a sigh. She wouldn't be surprised if she had a few missed calls from Patrick.

"Look. It's getting late and it's been...a long, weird day. We should get some rest..." She trailed off, looking over Five's clothes then at her three other brothers. "Uh...Klaus! You'd have something that fits Five, right?"

"They'll fit, but I definitely don't think he'll like them," Klaus chuckled, cocking a brow, "I am not against taking him shopping tomorrow. _Ooo_ , I'll pick something up for you too big guy!"

He gave Luther a small push at this, smile fading at the tenseness in his shoulders. He just rolled his eyes though, looking away and mouthing a small _yeesh_ over his shoulder.

They all said their goodbyes for now – Vanya, still clearly uneasy from Diego's cold shoulder earlier, went back to her own apartment, almost too eagerly. Allison gave Luther's arm a small squeeze, mumbling about having a chat at some point, before she left for her hotel.

Diego held back in the kitchen, shooing Klaus off, who gave him an odd look in return.

"We're gonna talk funeral stuff," Diego explained, waving at Luther behind him, since stood up and swaying slightly near the sink, "It'd bore you."

"Well you're not wrong there," Klaus said slowly, brushing his hair back with a dramatic gesture, "But I feel someone should stick around to make sure you two brutes don't get in a tussle. You have almost too many sharp objects to play with here."

"I see that much hasn't changed," Five mumbled, stifling a yawn as he shuffled from the kitchen. He seemed far further away mentally though, brow set in an intense frown.

Diego gritted his teeth, placing his hands on Klaus' shoulders and giving a squeeze – milder than Klaus knew was in his strength, but still an irritated warning.

"Klaus, I promise you. We won't. Now go."

" _Hmmm_...okay." He glanced to his side with a small smirk and winked, before turning heel and waving as he left. "Don't stay up too late!"

Diego groaned, turning around to Luther. "You're not helping yourself."

"This is a pretty stressful situation to be in," Luther said, huffing as he leaned forward against the sink, staring down into it, "Five’s back and said he found us all dead. Not something I wanna hear.”

He scrunched his face up as he pressed a hand against his temple, sighing heavily. “Diego, what if...what if all _this_ has changed the future somehow?"

"Then it might've stopped the freaking world ending."

Diego put his arm around Luther's back, giving a small pat there. This was becoming a habit. "Pretty win-win, right?"

"But what if it happens _earlier_ instead?"

This stopped Diego. He hadn't actually thought of that. He was going with crisis averted, as well as Five being a little mad from years of isolation. But what if one of his insane theories was right? What if this _did_ bring it all forward?

"...look. Don't...don't think about that. Focus on now." Diego rubbed his back, trying to ignore the slight tremble to Luther. "Uh... _so_. Police interview. I feel like that'll be tomorrow. They'll probably tell you some things from the autopsy, but you gotta pretend like you haven't heard them."

"They're never gonna believe I'm innocent," Luther sighed, rubbing his eyes, "I'm literally super strong, who else..."

"You'd already be in a cell if they thought it was you, trust me."

Luther bowed his head for a moment, before smiling, wrapping an arm around Diego and pulling him in.

"Thank you, Diego. It at least feels like a weight off my shoulders to talk about it. I've been going crazy..."

" _Mmph_!" Diego managed to awkwardly pat at Luther's side, face strained. _Jeez_ , the guy just didn't seem to know the appropriate strength for a hug, which made complete sense honestly. "I'm glad!"

He wriggled his way free, before pointing behind him. "C'mon, go get some rest man. You need it."

"Are...you staying here tonight?"

"Yup. For as long as I'm needed." He paused and shrugged. "Just down the hall if you need a chat."

The two shared a smile and left the kitchen.

Obviously, they had no idea Ben was still there sat on the edge of the table, swinging his legs as he watched on. The wink and smirk Klaus made were aimed at him, which he took to mean _'listen in'_. He didn't particularly want to, felt a bit rude to use him to eavesdrop, but if it was just funeral stuff...

Ben tilted his head. A lot of what they said had sounded awfully suspicious, he'd admit. Talks of innocence and pretending to not know what police reports say.

He frowned and closed his eyes, finding himself in Klaus' bedroom. Klaus himself was already undressed, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt (that Ben knew he'd stolen from someone the night he crashed on their couch).

"You going to listen to me now I’ve done your dirty work?" Ben asked, watching as Klaus slumped onto his mattress, "Or are you gonna light up again?"

"God, shut up," Klaus groaned, rubbing his forehead, "Besides, you know I don't do weed before bed, it keeps me too perky. So, what were One and Two really talking about?"

Ben frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Not funeral stuff."

"Knew it." Klaus scrambled closer to him, grinning. "Diego was seeming far too... _nice_ to Luther, y'know? It's not normal."

"Maybe you should keep your voice down a bit?" Ben suggested quickly, glancing over to the door, "Luther's room is right there and everyone can actually hear _you_."

"Right, right, okay." Klaus dropped his voice into a soft mumble, the way he'd usually talk to him at peak sobriety in rehab. "So? What were they saying?"

"Luther..." Ben frowned. "Luther said something about _'all this'_ changing the future, and Diego replied saying what did it matter because _'it'_ might've stopped an apocalypse."

He emphasised the words with little air quotations, to which Klaus blinked and slowly nodded. Ben could almost see the gears whirring in his brain as he processed.

"They...probably just mean Dad dying, right?"

"Diego brought up pretending to not know what the autopsy report says when the police interview Luther, but earlier he said they hadn't released anything about that yet. And Luther doesn't think the cops will find him innocent."

"... _urgh_." Klaus pressed a hand against his head, falling back onto his bed. "He's probably just blaming himself for no reason. Dad got far deeper in his head, he’s practically brainwashed.”

Ben glanced away shyly, not particularly wanting to retort that if that were the case, he'd likely still be alive. Too cruel, especially to the one guy he talked to.

"But he specifically mentioned his _power_ being why."

"Because he didn't protect the guy, that's probably all."

Klaus snorted, shaking his head as he folded his arms behind them. "What? You think Luther actually had something to do with this?"

"N-no, just...weird, right?"

"Mm. I'll give you that. Diego and Luther not arguing…whatever the hell happened that made Luther all chunky…"

He shrugged, rolling instead to lay with his head dangling off the edge of the bed and his feet up on the wall. "But what isn’t weird with us? Look, thanks for listening in. There's definitely something going on but...it could _never_ be that."

"...you could always...talk to Dad, you know. Make this a whole lot easier if you just ask him what happened."

Klaus raised a brow and immediately burst out laughing, tossing his head back. Ben scowled, making a motion like he would throw something at him if he could.

"I'm just saying!"

"Yeah, lemme just tell Daddy to quit sucking off...uhhhh, Attila the Hun, so I can ask who killed him!" He wiped under his eyes, the smallest hints of his eyeliner running. "Ben, dear, dead Benethy-"

"Okay, you know for a fact that's not what Ben is short for-"

"And you know I don't just...summon anymore." He waggled his hands around. "The Séance is long gone. I'm nowhere near sober enough to do it, even when I _am_ sober. And who’s to say Dad would even come, even listen to me? When has he ever?"

Ben gritted his teeth, folding his arms and bringing his feet up onto the bed. Klaus actually muttered "hey, no shoes on the covers", quickly trying to change the mood of the conversation, but it fell on deaf irritated ears.

"You could make so many things so much easier," Ben grumbled.

" _You're_ the only one who's asked about it though. None of the others care. And the police probably have some kind of files on us, they probably know it's something I can do, but they don’t want the weirdo Hargreeves kid taking credit for an investigation, like that one time-"

"Oh, they _definitely_ have files on you..."

Klaus sat up very suddenly, letting out a sigh.

"Ben? Are you really that pissed with me?"

Ben tilted his head back before giving it a small shake for no. "Only the usual amount."

_Thwip!_

"Klaus, could you please shut up?" Five asked, appearing in the room with a blue flash, dressed in a pair of Umbrella Academy branded pyjamas that barely fit his lanky teenage frame, "I can hear you all the way from mine."

During the years of his absence, Klaus forgot how...annoying Five's power could be. He flailed his limbs about from the surprise, sliding from the bed with a small thump. Ben scoffed at that.

"Klaus?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry man."

Five huffed and shook his head, before glancing around the room, clearly confused.

"Who were you talking to?"

"...myself." Klaus ignored the look from Ben as he pulled himself back on the bed, shrugging slightly.

Five frowned but rolled his eyes patronisingly.

" _Of course_. Well, quit it. I'm damn exhausted and trying to think." He gave a small wave of his fingers before _thwipping_ back to his own room.

"You're gonna have to tell them all one day y'know," Ben said, swinging his legs and leaning back.

"You know I can't, that they - they wouldn't believe me." Klaus shooed him from the bed, getting under the blankets with a heavy sigh. "With good reason too."

" _You_ decided to lie that time."

Ben stuffed his hands in his pockets, shrugging one of his shoulders. "If you'd waited a few more days, you would have actually seen me, but you _lied_."

"...Ben? Fuck off. I wanna sleep for once."

Ben sighed, watching Klaus squirm onto his stomach and bury his face deep into his pillow with a tired grumble. The blanket was a little off, so with all his ghostly might, he managed to nudge it back on, before slinking into the darkest parts of the room. Never could fully leave but...someone needed to watch Klaus.

“Goodnight…”

He did wait a few moments to make sure Klaus had fully fallen asleep before deciding to check his other three brothers. Just...because.

Five was pacing the floor, muttering numbers as he gestured wildly, occasionally slapping the heel of his hand into his temple and groaning. Too much for Ben to understand. Probably time travel related. It was nice he was finally back though. All of them together again…technically.

Luther was already fast asleep, sprawled starfish style on the bed, arms and feet dangling off the edges as he let out small rumbly snores. Still wearing a full-length turtleneck sweater. It had been a long while since Ben felt warmth, but it was late summer. How he wasn't dying of heatstroke was anyone's guess.

He went to Diego's room last, and was at least partially surprised to find him still awake. His clothes and gear were folded neatly on the dresser, boots pressed up to the edge, leaving him sat in just his boxers.

Ben couldn't help noticing the scars breaking up parts of his skin, some old and fading, some pink and raw, like they only happened a few weeks ago. None of them were any strangers to scars (Ben, absent minded, stroked a hand along his stomach) but Diego always seemed to suffer the worst of them somehow.

Diego let out a loud sigh, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

"Jesus Christ, Lu-Lu-Lu..." He glared at the ceiling, a small annoyed rumble at the back of his throat, as he huffed out, "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

Ben felt something frantic pop up into his chest at those words. He couldn't remember the last time he heard Diego stammer, usually it was only when he was particularly anxious. He wished he could shake his big brother and ask 'what do you mean', or 'talk to me, I'm here'. Instead he could only linger in hopes Diego would say more. Alas, he just shook his head and wrapped himself in the duvet like a cocoon, asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

Ben stood out in the corridor, hearing nothing but Luther's snores and the distant 'tap-tap' of Five still pacing the floor. He looked over at Diego's door again.

Something was up. Something actually bad. Something he knew he couldn't do anything about.

But maybe if he tried enough, Klaus could.

Being a ghost could really suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's enough drama going on in this fic without adding Five withholding information to the mix, so I applied enough general scenario pressure that he'd blab some more info a lot sooner just to. get that outta the way lmao,,, (seriously maybe. lead with the whole 'you died' thing dude)
> 
> I like writing Ben. He's nice. He cares. I get to play with the ghost stuff.
> 
> this fic is going in a direction I didn't really expect but I'm kinda loving writing Diego and Luther getting along and EVERYBODY finding it suspicious lol
> 
> also again. timeline confusing. I'm sticking with 2016. that roughly works out in my head.


	6. Good Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little slower, but mainly because what I have planned for the next chapter (maybe the chapter after too?) is **a lot** so. a little rest. setting up. that's fine.

"News broke this morning."

Diego jumped, on instinct throwing the butter knife he was holding at the source of the voice. He knew it was Five though, so the thing veered to the floor with a clatter.

"You do that again, I am getting you a collar with a bell," he grumbled, going to pick the knife back up and dumping it in the sink, "Anyway, the hell you talking about?"

Five nodded at the newspaper he was holding. "Front page...he would be pleased."

"Ah shit."

There it was, a stock photo of Reginald under the caption announcing his death. Diego groaned, tossing his head back slightly.

"Great. Today of all days." He pointed upstairs. "Turns out the cops called last night, but Mom answered. Luther’s interview is in a few hours."

"Perfect, I'll drive him-"

"No, _I_ will, because I actually have a car, and-" Diego paused, brow raised as he sat at the table with his toast. "When the hell did you learn how to drive?"

"Forty-five years Diego. I had a _lot_ of spare time." Five started rummaging through the cupboards, setting a mug down in the process. "Can I get a ride anyway? Klaus has completely vanished, and I could really do with some of my own clothes."

He gestured at his current outfit – a pair of too long skinny jeans that he probably stole from Klaus, rolled up at the cuffs, and a hoodie Diego rather quickly recognised as one of his own from his teens, meaning it was at least a size or so too big on Five.

"How did you cope in the apocalypse?" Diego asked, almost immediately regretting it at the sneer that flashed over Five's face, "Yeah, okay, I'll take you shopping. I guess I've got nothing else going on until tonight."

"Good." Five punctuated his comment by slamming the last cupboard door shut. "Because we also need coffee. _Good_ coffee."

"Sorry, none of us really drank it..."

Luther walked into the kitchen, tugging down the edge of the sweater he been wearing for probably the last few days. He was out of the pyjamas and into some smarter looking jeans at least.

"I'm taking Five to the store later, if you want me to pick you up some new clothes?" Diego suggested softly, perhaps too much as Five gave him a look.

"Mm, yeah. Thanks, that'd be great."

Understandably he seemed distracted, eyeing the two of them as he shuffled to the appropriate cupboards for a bowl and muesli.

"Surprised Mom isn't here making a feast," Five said slowly, staring dejectedly at his empty mug, "Did that stop after I left or...?"

"After everyone else left." Luther flinched at his own growled words. "She'd...she'd make dinner for me and Dad, but I told her I'd just make my own breakfast and lunch. Give me something to do."

Distracted by his own passive aggressiveness, he fumbled through the cutlery drawer for a spoon. "Besides, she was still making enough for six, I was gonna get...uh, huge."

He stared at the bowl, frowning, until with a small _thwip-thwip_ , Five placed the milk carton at his side. He grunted an embarrassed thanks, finally settling down at the head of the table to eat. Diego scratched the back of his head before leaning forward.

"You ready for today?"

Luther nodded, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "As I can be. I just have to tell them everything I know."

"Which is?" Five asked, slow and probing, as he decided on toast himself.

"Me and Dad had a talk about my next mission. I went to my room and Mom brought me a snack. I fell asleep, and Mom found him the next morning." His eyes darted to Diego quickly, who gave him a thin smile and tiny bob of his head to note he'd done well. "I didn't hear anyone come in. I sleep heavily."

"Yes, I could hear you from down the hall. I'm not going to get _anything_ done here." Five pointed at the newspaper he'd left on the table. "The press know about all this now, by the way. There's a few outside, actually."

Diego's head shot up. "You didn't tell me that part!"

"Didn't seem too important."

"Yeah, for the guy who can just teleport past them."

Diego groaned, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes. "How did we used to deal with this?"

"We didn't." Luther pushed his bowl aside, licking dregs of milk from his top lip. "Dad would force us to talk to them because he wanted us to get the attention..."

The three went quiet, knowing they were thinking the same thing – _should_ they make a statement? And if so, who? Once upon a time, they did it as a team, leaving the important stuff to Reginald himself.

"No statement is still a statement," Five said suddenly, raising his brows as he scanned the newspaper article, "Could always say we're not ready until we're more informed. Where's your car Diego?"

"Across the street. Black, lil' busted-"

"Hm, I think I'll know when I see it." He folded up the newspaper, getting to his feet. "It should be easier if the press doesn’t find out I'm back quite yet. I'll meet you out there."

"Huh? Wait, Five-"

Diego reached out and grabbed at nothing but blue mist, growling slightly. Luther, who at some point had gone and made a second bowl of muesli without him noticing, glanced upwards.

"Does my story really sound that believable?"

"What? Yeah, Luther, it's fine." Diego rubbed between his eyes, grumbling slightly. "God. Okay. I guess you should go in front in case there's a lot of them, you can push through easily."

"And block you?"

"...maybe."

Luther let out a scoff, draining the bowl of milk before standing up, stretching out his back. Diego hesitated, gesturing for him to pull at the bottom of his sweater after, covering the small strip of stomach that came on show.

"You sure you don't want me to stick around for the interview?"

"Diego, it's fine." They'd reached the front door, and Luther closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few slow breaths. "It'd be suspicious if you were lurking. I...I need to do this alone."

"You really don't though."

Diego didn't add the _'none of us do'_ he wanted, as he opened up the door.

Five could have informed them on the actual number of reporters there. It was four, two of which were far more preoccupied flirting with each other. Clearly the press weren’t _that_ interested, only tabloids. They definitely perked up when Diego and Luther walked out, giving each other a little shove as they pressed against the gate.

Luther grimaced and squared his shoulders as he jogged down the steps, head bowed. Diego kept his perked up a little, overhearing some of the mumbles from the reporters.

"Which two are they?"

"I don't know."

"There's literally three they could be-“

They'd passed through the gate now and the boldest of the reporters shoved the others aside, holding up his cellphone, already recording as he tried to introduce himself. He was immediately cut off by Diego’s glare.

"We have no comments to make right now," he growled, flexing his wrist to make sure the mid-morning light caught at least one of his blades, "You better be gone by the time we're back."

His snarl dazed the bolder reporter, and made the others flinch back, avoiding any sort of sight as the two made their way to the car.

"Forgot how scary you try to be," Luther mumbled, spotting Five already sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed.

Diego hummed, opening the driver's side door before pausing, glaring at Luther over the car.

"Excuse me? _Try_ to be?"

"Ah, that's the Luther and Diego I knew," Five said with a sigh, tilting his head back, "Come on. Won’t look good to be late, and frankly I’d rather not spend too much time browsing for clothes.”

Diego rolled his eyes, jumping in the front seat, whilst Luther awkwardly clambered into the back. Five turned for a moment, a flash of sympathy coming over his face as he looked at him.

"Good luck, if that helps."

"...thanks."

_He might need it_ , Diego thought, bitterly, as he pulled out into the road. For all his encouragement of Luther right now, he knew it would take some miracle for this to all work out.

*

Luther stood outside the doors of the police station, staring blankly ahead at the road for a few moments before going to lean on a nearby wall, staring at the box in his hands instead.

"What the hell..."

He paused and sighed. He was done in an hour, which was definitely not enough time for Diego and Five to be finished shopping, and he had no means of contacting either of them. Diego suggested waiting at a coffee shop down the street, but they could still take forever. He supposed he could walk home but...

He tensed as some people walked past, trying to flatten himself against the wall as much as possible.

_No. Not an option._

"Luther!"

He relaxed upon hearing a familiar voice. Allison came over, wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses and hat, beaming at him.

"Allison. How did you...?"

"Dropped by the house and Mom said you'd already gone off. Thought I'd take my chances catching you here." She tilted her head, touching his arm gently. "How was it?"

"Uh..."

He was distracted as a dark-haired man appeared from just behind Allison, pushing a baby stroller, a vaguely irritated look on his face. She turned and laughed slightly, taking the man's hand and muttering something in his ear. Immediately his expression changed into a thin smile.

"Luther, this is Patrick, my husband. Patrick, this is Luther, one of my brothers."

Patrick glanced Luther up and down quickly, then looked at Allison. Subtly, she put up one finger and he nodded, sticking out his free hand.

"Pleased to finally meet you," he said, before giving a slight grimace, "Sorry it's under these circumstances."

Luther, tucking the box under his arm, gingerly took his hand, giving it a quick brisk shake with a mumble of _'yeah'_ , all too distracted by the child in the stroller.

"This is...Claire, right?"

"Yep." Allison leaned over the stroller slightly and waggling her fingers at her daughter. "Say hi to your Uncle Luther."

Claire simply babbled in response, eyes wide and bright as they stared up at him. He offered a tiny smile back, mimicking Allison's gesture of waving his fingers.

She was so... _small_...

He shuffled a little away, clearing his throat. "Uh. Diego said he'd drive me home but he's taking Five out clothes shopping-"

"I thought Klaus-" Allison paused, then rolled her eyes. "Right. Of course."

Luther gave a pained smile then nodded, pointing over his shoulder. "He told me to wait at a coffee shop down there if you want to chat...?"

"That'd be great!" Allison squeezed Patrick's hand, beaming at him. "Get to know each other a bit more."

That looked like the last thing Patrick really wanted to do, but all Luther could offer was a half-smile of sympathy, leading the way to the café.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I am depriving you all of the absolute comedy fountain that would be Diego and Five clothes shopping
> 
> Diego's power is throwing knives so I will apply that to any and all knives. give him a fucking bread knife and he can yeet it.


	7. Some of Us/Most of Us/All of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> logical fic brain: maybe wait a few days before uploading the next chapter  
> gremlin fic brain: nyahhhh but i finished it so **n o w**
> 
> another chapter where I struggle with having all the characters in one scene, thank god Claire is a freaking baby

Vanya ducked her head down, covering the side of her face with one arm as she tried to huddle into the booth seat.

_Please don't see me..._ (Well they'd spent almost their whole childhoods not seeing her, why would they start now?)

She dared to glance up, noticing Luther staring in her direction...he hadn't seemed to notice her though, looking at the wall just behind her, glazed over slightly.

His eyes came back into focus though and he blinked at her existence, giving a small confused wave. Her lips pulled thin and she waved back. _Too late._

Alison lowered her sunglasses and started to grin, sauntering over with several easy strides, leaving Patrick to struggle with dealing with the stroller as Luther awkwardly waddled after.

"Vanya! What're you doing here?" she cried, taking a spare seat.

"Uh, I'm on a break and someone in the orchestra always recommended this place so I thought I'd try it out. What about you?"

"Waiting for Diego." Luther sat next to Vanya on the booth side with a loud bump, setting the box in his hands to his side. "I, um...the police..."

"Oh. Right." Vanya recognised the gravity of the situation, closing the book she'd been reading. "How...how was it?"

Luther blinked at the floor then shrugged, picking a loose thread on his glove. "I mean. As you'd expect from that sort of thing."

Allison perked up, gripping Vanya's knee under the table and giving an encouraging look. Vanya floundered on her next words for a few seconds – guess this was on her now.

"Uhh, did they...tell you any more information about what they think happened?"

"...they...think he killed himself."

Allison's hand left Vanya's knee, eyes wide.

" _What_?"

Luther shrugged again, starting to chew on the thread now. "That's...what they told me. Yup."

He glanced over at the box, about to gesture towards it, but Patrick came over, holding Claire in his arms.

"I ordered for us," he said gently, bouncing Claire up and down slightly. He shot a glance at Luther, humming. "I just got you a regular coffee...?"

"That's fine. So uh, about Dad-"

"Oh, crap, wait!" Allison raised her hand, gesturing at Vanya. "Vanya, this is Patrick and Claire."

"Oh! Nice to meet you."

Vanya offered a smile at Claire, reaching over to waggle a finger. Claire gabbled excitedly, taking Vanya's finger in her tiny fist and eliciting a small "d'aww" from all bar Luther, still staring tensely at the box.

Patrick paused, brow raised. " _Oh_. The book writer."

Vanya withdrew her finger from Claire quickly, rubbing her upper arm. "Uh..."

Luther, looking for any excuse to change the subject now, moved the box back onto his lap. "Look, I suppose whilst some of us are here-"

He cut off hearing the door open, glancing up.

"...most of us."

Diego walked in, expression sour, even as he noticed Luther, followed by Five. Their formerly missing brother was now dressed in some far better fitting pants, along with a white button up shirt and dark suit jacket, looking more like a businessman than a teenage boy. _Suppose he was?_

He was also awkwardly carrying half a store mannequin.

"Oh boy," Vanya breathed, slinking back into the seat as much as she could, thankful for the slight wall Luther provided.

Quickly Allison leaned in to Patrick's ear. "Diego and Five."

"Five? I thought he..."

"It's a long story."

From the counter, Diego and Five exchanged some clearly irritated words before Diego pointed off. Five rolled his eyes and made his way over to the table, setting the mannequin down on one empty seat before sitting next to it.

Everyone just stared. Five blinked.

"This is Dolores," he said plainly, gesturing towards the mannequin before folding his hands on his lap.

Everyone kept staring, even as Diego came and dragged another chair over, making the whole table a little more cramped.

"It's his wife," he said in a painfully quiet voice, instead turning his focus to Patrick with a slight sneer as he took off one of his gloves with his teeth, "Oh, you're...uh..."

"Patrick," he said with a small sigh.

"Right." Diego kept his glare, shoulders squaring out slightly. Of course, _one_ of them went 'protective big brother' route...

Five glanced over, brows raised. "Patrick? Oh, the..."

His eyes went very suddenly wide, glancing away quickly as he tapped his bottom lip with his finger. "Oh, well, I suppose _just_ husband. That hasn't happened yet...why would you be here otherwise?"

Patrick blinked, looking over his shoulder at Allison hopelessly, but she looked just as lost.

Luther took this chance at changing the subject again, but their drinks arrived and interrupted him. He huffed, putting the box back down beside him and replacing it in his hands with his coffee, pouring far too many packets of sugar in. _Later_.

Instead, Allison kept trying to keep the conversation with the group going, though only Vanya really responded, and she clearly wasn't that interested herself, only talking to avoid any uncomfortable silence.

Diego looked across the table at Luther, chewing his bottom lip. He'd been hoping that he could have shaken Five off by now so the two of them could sit and talk about the police interview, but he supposed that would have to wait.

As if reading his mind, Luther caught his eye, mouthing _'chat later?'_ , to which Diego nodded. At least they were on the same page.

Behind them, some commotion started happening, a member of staff, a timid looking teen, knocking on the door leading to the bathroom as another worker, an older surlier looking guy, stood next to her, arms crossed.

Of course everyone else in the coffee shop was pretending to look the other way, but many (the siblings included) kept glancing over.

The teen worker sighed, shaking her head. "No luck."

The older worker sighed himself, getting a set of keys and sticking it in the lock. He opened the door and sighed again, more irritated now.

"I told you to stop coming here," he growled at some unseen person, stepping inside to assuredly drag them out.

"What kind of idiot gets banned from a coffee shop?" Five scoffed quietly, looking at bliss for the first time as he sipped his coffee.

"...one of ours," Allison said, pinching the bridge of her nose as the older worker dragged Klaus out of the bathroom by the scruff of his neck.

He was acting twitchy, chuckling as he tried to squirm from his tight grip.

"Hey, look, buddy, I didn't - just a little bit in there, I didn't mean to! Hell, I'll even clean it up myself, I swear-"

At this point, Klaus noticed his family staring at him with various shades of disappointment on their faces and he blanched.

"So just all of us are here now I guess," Vanya breathed out, barely audible. All she wanted was a quiet drink on her lunch break.

Klaus chuckled more, managing to duck out of his garish jacket with a triumphant grin. "Hah-ha! Iiiii swear I was just meeting my family here. Ain't they sweet?"

The worker raised his brows at them all. "He with you?"

"Technically, yes," Five sighed, shaking his head.

"We'll watch him until we're finished here," Allison added, giving her as always stunning movie star smile.

The worker hesitated, a second too long as Allison tried to stand up, but Patrick reached over and grabbed her wrist, giving a warning look.

And everything was still.

Five blinked, glancing around the coffee shop, still sipping his coffee as he did so. Allison half stood, Patrick trying to pull her back. The teenage worker was mid-step to grabbing a mop behind the counter. Vanya and Luther both held their drinks, hovered inches from their lips.

Then he realised.

"I think an old friend is here," he said quietly, brushing his hand against Dolores' arm.

He shot a glance at Diego close to him, and despite knowing he'd regret it later, managed to slide a blade out from one sheath and jump to his feet, pointing it out.

As expected, the Handler was there, head tilted and lip quirked.

"Mr Hargreeves," she said, she purred, stepping closer, "So good to see you. You're looking awfully _spry_.”

"I'm still the man I was," he said, still holding out the knife, "Same mind, different body. Better body, arguably. What are you doing here?"

He tilted his own head at her, furrowing his brow. "To kill me?"

The Handler laughed, standing within inches of the blade. "Perhaps. Eventually. I don't remember terminating your contract with us. Why now?"

Five shrugged. "It wasn't intentional. I wanted... _later_. I thought I _was_ later. I travelled to not long after my father died but...it brought me here."

He faltered ever so slightly. "My father is dead though. Four years too early."

He regained his composure just as quickly as he lost it though, pointing the knife at her face. "How come we didn't track this possibility? Why was there nobody to disrupt the timeline?"

"Because sometimes, bitter old men just die, Mr Hargreeves." She paused. “Do you suspect foul play?”

Five didn’t answer, lowering his eyes to his shoes.

The Handler instead glanced over his family, humming slightly. "Perhaps something is wrong. Perhaps you discovered a parallel dimension, an alternate universe. One where your father died earlier. Either way, the apocalypse will still happen four years from now, whether you like it or not."

With one swift movement, she grabbed Five's wrist, twisting it away. Usually he could've fought back, but the move was too much of a surprise hit, and he floundered slightly, though still managed to keep a grip on the knife.

"Just kill me then," he growled, swiping it around hopelessly between his fingers.

"...not yet. More fun to wait." She tilted her head. "Maybe send some more people after you. Perhaps they're already here. Who knows?"

Five, as subtly as he could, gulped. Certainly, he could take anyone the Commission threw at him, but he thought – well, he _hoped_ , really – that his time jump had been enough to lose them. Evidentially not.

The Handler smirked, throwing his hand away. "Thought I'd give you a warning. Stay on your toes. Hope it makes you reconsider."

She glanced over his family again, eyes tracing each in turn, with a special time spent staring at Vanya. "Though maybe hope your magnificent siblings are at your side."

She paused, smirk somehow growing wider. "And that your niece isn't."

Five's eyes went wide and he lunged forward, but already she was gone.

Time started again.

The cafe worker groaned, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "Fine, fine. You're still banned sunshine, don't wanna see you back here after this."

"Oh of course, I know that." Klaus gave a wink and fell back dramatically next to Luther, who just about managed to pull the box back in time before he sat on it.

"...Five? Why are you standing up there?"

He blinked hearing Vanya's voice, and was immediately grabbed by Diego, who let out an angry grunt as he shoved him back into his seat, snatching his knife back in the process.

"What the hell?" he hissed, waving it for a second before returning it to his belt, "When did you grab this?!"

Five blinked again, trying to relax the tension still prominent in his shoulders. "I...I..."

Everyone was distracted by Luther slamming something down in the centre of the table with a loud huff. It was made of a solid green plastic, had a label on the front and was...

"That's an urn," Klaus said, dumbfounded, "That's a... _holy shit_."

"So when do you want the funeral?" Luther gestured to the urn with one hand as he placed the box he'd been carrying it in at the edge of the table.

The others just stared from him to the urn. Patrick especially squirmed, glancing towards the exit.

"You could have led with this Luther," Allison said with a shaky breath.

He shrugged, at least vaguely acknowledging the uncomfortable air he'd made, so returned the urn back to the box. "Nobody was listening. Should we just do it tonight? Get it over with."

"D-d-did the police just give this to you?" Diego asked, flinching at the looks from the others as he stammered briefly.

"Yup." Luther's lips pulled thin and raised his brows quickly, in a way he hoped communicated to Diego _'I'll explain later'_. "They're done with their investigation."

He glanced down at the box, quietly gulping as he noticed his hands start to shake. "It's...it's all over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? setting up a possible fight scene? in _my_ fanfiction?


	8. Dearly Beloved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...heyyyyy. it's been a while. life really... _happened_ to me for a while there. mostly I lost motivation, despite having basically the rest of this fic planned out but that's just how it goes sometimes
> 
> I'll try to not make ya'll wait as long next time hah~ 😅 especially now I'm a bit more into the grove of writing these idiots again

“Oh, Five, this came for you whilst you were out.”

Five frowned at Grace’s reflection in his mirror, seeing her dressed in a plain black dress, before looking over his shoulder, tightening the knot of his tie. “What?”

She walked inside and handed him an envelope, head tilted to her shoulder. All it said was _Five Hargreeves_ in painfully familiar handwriting. “I just found it on the side table near the front door. Thought it might be important.”

“…thank you, Mom. I need to keep getting ready.”

Grace just nodded before leaving. The moment she was four steps down the corridor, Five dashed to shut his door, pressing it closed with his back and ripping the envelope open. Inside was one single sheet of expensive looking paper, and written on it:

_In all my excitement, I forgot to tell you. I’m giving you a second chance._

_Griddy’s Doughnuts, 2am. I’ll give you an hour. If you aren’t there, I advise you keep on your toes, Mr Hargreeves._

“Fuck.”

*

Diego probably wouldn’t admit it, and would scowl if anyone ever said it, but he did seem to have an eye for fashion.  
Nothing he bought for Luther was completely funeral appropriate, but he settled on a grey turtleneck and white button-up shirt, as well as a pair of black pants he had in his closet that thankfully still fit. It would do.

He sighed as once more the topmost shirt button popped undone, deciding to give up trying again and instead knocking on the door to Pogo’s room.

“Come in!”

Pogo was already fully dressed in funeral attire, giving Luther a small smile as he entered. “My, you look smart.”

“…what did you tell the police?”

If it were at all possible, Pogo’s face paled. “Pardon?”

Luther clenched his hands into fists, grateful for his gloves blocking him from digging his palm.

“They told me. That it was a _suicide_.” His tone implied the air-quotations as he turned his furrowed brow to glare at Pogo. “The _method_ he used. Talked to me like a child the whole time.”

Pogo’s stance tensed for a moment but he hobbled to a chair and sat down. He gestured at his bed for Luther to do the same, but he just shook his head, choosing to instead stand stiffly in front of the door.

“Please understand. I told them what I could so you could avoid any sentencing. I explained you’d recently gone through some trauma, before your father’s death, so you might not be entirely able to answer.”

Luther swallowed, leaning back against the door whilst staring at his feet. “Okay, but…what about-“

“It was her idea.”

_Shit_. That made it worse somehow. Luther knew Diego would want to talk straight after the funeral, which meant he’d have to break that news to him…

“Fine. Thank you, I guess.”

As he turned to leave, Pogo stepped forward, grabbing his sleeve, forcing him to turn around with a heavy sigh.

“What is it?”

“…you did us all a favour, Luther. Know that.”

Luther just pulled his arm away and left without another word.

*

“Would…anyone like to say a few words?”

No one responded. They weren’t even looking at him, just all focused on literally anything other than Luther holding the urn.

“Good riddance?” Klaus said under his breath, before taking a slow drag of his cigarette.

Luther held out the urn and sighed heavily, running his thumbs over it.

“Right. I guess…I’ll try.”

Diego stiffened for a moment, raising his eyes up as if he was going to interrupt, but Luther ignored him.

“Uh. So…Dad. I’m sorry…you felt you had to…”

He felt his throat tighten as he looked up at the sky, taking a slow shallow breath. How the hell could he be doing this? It was his fault any of this even happened.

Noticing Diego shift again, he swallowed the lump in his throat and managed to continue.

“I just hope you’re…happy, now,” he said in a strained voice, having to take another shallow breath, “Wherever you are…”  
He pulled a face, glancing around his siblings for any kind of support as he let out a small, “Amen…?”

Nobody else was looking in his direction, but Diego pulled a face, shaking his head.

“Uh. Yeah, right.”

With an awkward cough, Luther nodded back and placed the urn by the feet of Ben’s statue, bowing his head for a moment. Everyone joined him in this at least, until Claire started to whine slightly, causing Alison to grimace and bounce her in her arms, hushing softly.

“Well. That’s that, I guess,” Klaus said, flicking the stub of his cigarette to the floor and grinding it out with his heel.

“I guess so,” Vanya said quietly, rubbing her arm.

More silence, as the siblings realised fully what this meant but none of them wanted to be the first to say it. This whole thing was done with and now what was the point of sticking around?

Grace interrupted by clapping her hands together, beaming, a jarring expression given the situation and general atmosphere.

“How about I go make dinner?” she said, already walking inside, “Whoever wants to join can!”

“An excellent idea, ma’am,” Pogo said, giving a sidelong look in Luther’s direction as he followed.

Vanya gave her own look at Diego, who was glaring ahead, turning on her heel quickly. “Uh, I’ll come help Mom!”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you dear. Come on.”

_Come on, leave already_ , Diego thought, glancing over at his remaining three siblings and brother-in-law.

Patrick, to his credit, had managed to remain calm this entire time. He was clearly completely out of his depth in this situation, but adjusted his tie and placed a hand on Allison’s wrist.  
“Do you want to stay or…?”

“Of course,” Allison replied, still bouncing Claire in her arms.

Noticing the tone of his voice, she gestured with her head towards the door, and they made their way inside. The others still heard “And why don’t you?” before they were out of earshot.

Diego just rolled his eyes, moving toward Luther, still stood in front of the statue, and placed a hand on his back. There was no point in waiting any longer.

“You good, big guy?” he asked, hushed, still aware of Klaus and Five behind them.

Luther nodded, hands folded in front of him. “We really need to talk. Your room or mine?”  
“Yours.”

So, with a final look to the urn, Luther hurried inside with Diego keeping step behind him.

Klaus cocked a brow, lighting himself another cigarette as he did.

“Something odd sure is going on there, ain’t it Five?” he asked with a small laugh, looking over to his young-but-old brother, “…Five?”

Five jolted in place, eyes coming back into focus from the small crack in the patio he’d been staring at for the past half an hour. “What?”

“Luther and Diego. I haven’t seen them this civil in…well, ever, really.” Klaus shrugged, tapping some ash to the ground. “Pretty weird, that’s all.”

“You only think it’s weird because I said so!” Ben called out over his shoulder from a few feet away, but of course only Klaus heard.

He was stood in front of the statue honouring his likeness, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Klaus tutted, giving a dismissive wave in his direction before paying attention to Five again, still staring rather blankly at nothing.  
“You alright my guy? You look spaced the hell out.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “You haven’t been in my room, have you?”

“Fuck no Klaus, I wouldn’t touch anything in your room, let alone consume it.” Five shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just need to think about something. See you at dinner, if you’re staying.”  
With that, he took a step forward and vanished in a flash of blue.

“So you finally believe me? That something might be going on?” Ben asked again, leaning back against the base of his statue.

Klaus sighed, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t know. It is weird that Luther and Diego are hanging out so much lately. Two hasn’t even made one crack about One’s size, which you really think he would’ve by now but…”

He rolled his cigarette between his fingers in thought, watching the end burn down. “The hell can we do?”

*

“Look, honey…I just don’t feel comfortable here, okay?”

Allison narrowed her eyes, so Patrick sighed and clarified.

“I shouldn’t have come, and I think you know that. This really wasn’t the best time to meet your family.” He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “Though…I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Why you left in the first place, why you never visited before now.” He took her free hand, giving it a squeeze. “Everything’s pretty… _intense_.”

Allison lowered her head for a moment, then nodded in quiet agreement. Having grown up in this environment, everything felt so normal, but for an outsider like Patrick, who grew up so _actually_ normal, it was a lot all at once.

Carefully, Patrick took Claire from her, smiling at their daughter before glancing back. “Look, enjoy yourself. I’ll get some room service back at the hotel and book us the next flight back to LA.”

He started to walk away but hesitated. “Unless…?”

“No.” Allison kissed his cheek, stroking a hand over Claire’s head. “I’m not going to stay. Have a good night, I won’t be too late back.”

Once Patrick left, Allison released the tension in her shoulders, before turning towards the staircase.

She still hadn’t been able to have a proper conversation with Luther, and now felt like as good a time as any.

**Author's Note:**

> all my Umbrella Academy fic ideas have usually ended up boiling down to 'someone murders Reginald' but this was the one I decided to actually go with, I guess


End file.
